If you’d like to change some habits, reach some important goals, or courageously face some new challenges, let me tell you a story.
Can We Watch The British Open? … All of It?
Ten-year-old Wesley loves golf—maybe more than I do (if that's possible).
No one saw it coming. Five years ago, he was watching the Masters on TV with his Paw Paw (my brother). Wesley hadn’t shown any interest in golf up until then, but the next time I saw him he rushed in and asked, “Uncle Alan, do you have any golf magazines?” He’s been looking at golf magazines and playing golf and going to golf camps ever since.
If you met him, you’d love him like I do. He’s just a sweet kid who has a habit of telling you out loud that he loves you. And if the subject of golf comes up, he could tell you who won all this year’s golf tournaments. If you played golf with him, you'd react like the old-timers at the course. They'd squint toward the fairway and ask, "Did he just hit his drive all the way down that hill?"
Wesley and his family stayed with us last week because they are making a move and were in between houses. Early in the week, Wesley wanted to know if we could watch the British Open (which would be starting on Thursday). I knew it was a busy week so I just kept saying, “We’ll see….”
On Thursday morning, with his parents’ permission, I made cheesy omelets and we turned on the morning broadcast of The Open at Royal Birkdale in England. As soon as the images appeared on the screen, Wesley started calling out players as they appeared, “That’s Jon Rahm. And Scottie Scheffler will be teeing off in an hour. And hey, that’s Gotterup—he won the John Deere Classic last month.”
Wesley’s sister and their dad joined us and we pointed and gasped and cheered for golfers as they dodged pot bunkers, navigated the wispy fescues, and dreamed of taking home the Claret Jug from golf’s oldest major championship.
Thursday is sermon day. All day. I guard it pretty carefully. But, boy, I wanted to watch the British Open with my little golf buddy and his family.
As soon as Wesley’s dad said, “Son, we can watch a few more minutes, but we soon need to go run our errands,” the little golf aficionado began pleading for more time.
He begged. His eyes filled with tears. I felt like crying too. Maybe the sermon could wait!
This pleading and negotiating were spotted with interjections appealing to fairness: “But Dad, it’s The British Open!”
Meanwhile, I thought of my own inner conflict—of the sermon prep awaiting me at my desk downstairs.
Finally, I chuckled and turned to seven-year-old Bethany who was seated next to me on the couch observing all this:
“Bethany, do you know what the difference is between a kid and an adult?” I asked.
“What?” she responded.
“When you are a kid, someone else has to tell you that it’s time to turn off The British Open. When you are an adult, you have to tell yourself.”
Orphans and Heirs
After the TV went dark and Wesley went off to run errands with his dad, I opened up my Bible to my text for the week:
Ephesians 1:11 (ESV) — “In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will….”
God doesn't merely liberate slaves—He adopts children to make them heirs.
God doesn't merely liberate slaves—He adopts children to make them heirs.
A number of commentators have seen parallels between Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and the book of Joshua. The story of Joshua is about an inheritance of a Promised Land. The epistle to the Ephesians is about the inheritance of every spiritual blessing in Christ. Scholar F. F. Bruce has written that the land “was a foretaste of the richer inheritance which is now the possession of the people of God in Christ.”1
In other words, if you want to better understand your spiritual inheritance, pay attention to Joshua and the conquest of Canaan.
The Hebrew slaves suffered under the tyranny of Egypt but God heard the cry of His people and He sent a deliverer, Moses, to bring signs and wonders and plagues against Egypt that would ultimately liberate the captives.
On a woeful, glorious, holy night, a great Destroyer moved through every hamlet and village and alleyway of Egypt, slaying the Egyptian firstborns. But the destructive force passed over the Hebrew huts where the blood of the lamb was painted.
It’s our spiritual story. We were in bondage to sin, slaves to the debt we owed, captives of the darkness until Jesus, the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world, came and paid our debt.
The Hebrew people were more than freed slaves—they were God’s people destined to reign in a new and beautiful land. But, after a fearful report from 10 of 12 spies, the people of God lost their courage and self-control and turned back, away from their rightful inheritance, and wandered in the wilderness for forty years until the faithless generation died off.
The fearful Hebrews were heirs, but they thought like orphans. Their insecurities sabotaged their courage and robbed them of self-discipline. They had no capacity to move forward out of the comfort of the wilderness into the challenge of Canaan because they did not yet feel like heirs.
If you are in Christ, you are much more than a forgiven former slave—you are an heir of every spiritual blessing. You’re destined to reign with Christ, starting now and continuing forever in a new heaven and a new earth.
The geography of Exodus becomes the biography of every believer. We leave the bondage of Egypt, pass through the wilderness where God teaches us to trust Him, and enter the life He intended all along—a life of inheritance, abundance, and communion with Him.
The problem is that many believers have left Egypt but still think like slaves. They've been named heirs, but they continue living with the fears and impulses of orphans. And that's where self-control enters the story.
The fearful Hebrews were heirs, but they thought like orphans.
Why Heirs Have Self-Control
Back to turning off The Open on TV—what empowered me to have at least a little more self-control (I won’t watch it all day) than a ten-year-old?
Firstly, I was recording all four days of the tournament in the limitless DVR library provided by my TV provider. I knew I was rich with British Open watching opportunities. I faced no frightening scarcity of British Open hours. I was an heir of many TV-watching hours.
Orphans don’t feel that way. Having no certainty of future provision, they grab what they can now. That’s why orphans are self-absorbed. They are insecure. That’s why they have so little self-control.
Heirs are secure. They don’t just see their lives by the bread in their hand—they can say “no” to a source of immediate gratification because of the promise of what is ahead.
Secondly, there is a deep power of identity at work in the heir’s mind that leads to courage and self-control. I didn’t turn off the British Open merely because I was secure in the knowledge that I had plenty of hours of watching ahead—I chose to turn it off because I had a deep sense of vocation. I believed that the sermon I was about to prepare would bless people.
A part of me felt like watching the British Open all day long but a deeper part of me felt like fulfilling my life mission to proclaim the best news ever.
My desire to take some territory, to build the kingdom, and to bless people transcended my urge to just watch TV.
Heirs live with self-control not just because they have assurance of future provision but because they are invested in the well-being of their father’s estate.
Heirs are owners. They think like owners. Owners care about increasing what they have been entrusted. It often means saying “no” to comfort and “yes” to challenge.
The Promised Land isn’t a place of ease—it is a battleground with Jericho walls to shout down and Philistine armies to fight against.
I think of when Paul said that Galatians 4:1 (ESV) — “…the heir, as long as he is a child, is no different from a slave, though he is the owner of everything….”
When our son was little, he’d ask, “How many green beans do I have to eat before I can have dessert?”
“Seven or eight,” I’d say.
But the plan wasn’t for my son to budget his bean eating by a law but by growing into a steward of his body—an heir who cared for his own health and well-being because his life is here for a purpose.
Whether it is choosing how much TV to watch or how many green beans to eat, the Gospel does something the law can never do—it announces our inheritance and changes our whole view of life!
I’m sure we could all use a nice, fresh dose of self-control.
And I’m sure of this—it will never come via the law.
You won’t accomplish much by waking up in the morning and saying, “I better have more self-control today or else I’ll be in trouble.”
Instead, wake up tomorrow morning and remind yourself: I’m an heir of unsearchable spiritual riches. God’s grace won’t run out. There is no scarcity in my Father’s house. I am an owner, an heir alongside Christ. The Promised Land is mine and I’m more than a conqueror.
That’s the kind of talk that will build Joshua-like courage and flood your heart with inward discipline. Self-control never comes by the law—it blossoms under the good news of the Gospel. So, remember who you are, and go take some new territory.
Self-control never comes by the law—it blossoms under the good news of the Gospel.
Footnotes
1 F. F. Bruce, The Epistles to the Colossians, to Philemon, and to the Ephesians (NICNT; Eerdmans, 1984), discussion of Ephesians 1:11–14.
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